


Going

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-06
Updated: 2006-06-06
Packaged: 2018-10-26 14:39:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10788744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Viktor unknowingly convices Hermione to go to the ball.  Written forviolet_quill's Get Cedric Laid challenge.





	Going

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Much love to BeccaFran for her supportive and helpful beta.  


* * *

  
For much of the Hogwarts’ population, Sunday afternoons were reserved for scurrying around to finish last minute work. Ron and Harry were both, on that particular Sunday, frantically scribbling essays on Unforgivable curses that Professor Moody had assigned over two weeks ago.

She should, Hermione knew, be working on her own Transfiguration parchment. With the Yule ball looming gloomily on the horizon, and the hopeful, puppy-dog eyes Viktor had taken to aiming her way whenever she entered the library, Hermione decided she’d rather spend the afternoon away from the oppressive eyes of the older boy, and the frantic questions of the younger boys, and went in search of Ginny.

With most of the school sequestered inside, the youngest Weasley would most likely brave the frigid wind and wet December snow for a moment’s freedom alone on a school broom.

Gloves pulled on tightly and scarf wound several times around her neck, Hermione took her worn Transfiguration book down to the pitch to watch Ginny from the solitude of the benches. She walked briskly, trying to distract herself from the brutal wind by reciting Herbology tables aloud, her teeth chattering around every word.

The Quidditch pitch, its hoops hung with crystalline daggers of ice, stood empty in the hazy, winter light. A golden glow peeked out from beneath the shed to the right of the benches. Ginny, Hermione hoped, had opted to clip the school brooms in the shed attached to the changing rooms, rather than brave the cold air.

She quietly pushed the door in, biting off her thick gloves the moment she stepped into the warm relief of the shed. Outside, the wind howled, reminding Hermione that soon she would once again be victim to its bite. Inside, the shed seemed empty; brooms were lined up along the walls and the benches in the center of the room were bare.

Hermione heard a muffled thump from the next room – the changing room – and, curious, she brought out her wand to inspect. The door separating the rooms was ajar, steam and light spilled out. Slowly, cautiously, Hermione pushed it open....

...and stopped short at the sight before her.

Cedric Diggory had Viktor Krum pushed flat against the wall. Both were bare-chested and heaving, as if they’d only just run laps around the outside pitch. Their chests were nearly touching. From Hermione’s vantage point at the door, she could see their eyes were trained upon one another’s, so intent that they were completely unaware of their audience. The air was heavy and wet, and sweat gleamed off of their frames – Viktor’s bulky and wide, Cedric’s narrow and pale.

For a moment, Hermione was certain she was witnessing a row. She debated returning back to the castle, but knew how much damage could occur in the long minutes it would take for her to alert a professor. She clutched her wand, and stepped fully into the room, prepared to stop this ridiculousness herself (no doubt Cedric and Krum were rivals, both being Champions), when Viktor pushed back against Cedric, a smirk on his face, smoothly switching their positions, and – oh, _goodness_ – running his hand along the considerable bulge in the younger boy’s trousers.

Hermione gulped. She stood still as a statue, eyes riveted to the sight before her, as Viktor and Cedric’s lips met in a wet, sloppy kiss, heads tilting and mouths opening to accommodate sweeping tongues and clanging teeth. She felt heat rise from the tips of her toes up through her stomach and into her now-swirling head. Never in her short, chaste existence, had she seen two people kiss like this, as if their very lives depended upon the contact. They were positively attacking one another with lips and hands, and both were very obviously enjoying it.

Hermione watched through fuzzy eyes as a bead of sweat trailed down Cedric’s jaw. She licked her lips and watched, mesmerized, as Viktor leaned to slide his tongue against Cedric, catching the moisture as he went along. Cedric’s eyes slid shut on a hiss.

Hermione, panting now as if _she’d_ just run laps, knew she shouldn’t watch this terribly private moment, but she could not seem to will her legs to leave or her eyes to turn away.

She felt a swooping sensation in her stomach and slowly backed away, eyes glued to the couple in front of her, until she hit the wall and its row of Quidditch robes behind her. Ahead of her, Viktor ground his hips against Cedric’s. “Say it,” he hissed quietly, speaking for the first time since Hermione had entered the room, “you know you want to.”

“Mmm,” Cedric mumbled, clearly overtaken by feeling, “your cock.”

Hermione felt herself burn. She sunk deep into the robes.

“What about it?” said Viktor, low and rumbly. When Cedric hesitated, he insisted, “Go on.”

“Want it, now, inside," Cedric breathed in a rush. "Now.”

Viktor chuckled low and deep. He forcefully turned the younger boy around to face the wall and reached around to unbutton Cedric’s trousers. Hermione stared as they were lowered to reveal a pale, quivering bum. Viktor murmured something appreciative, leaning in to run his tongue along Cedric’s neck, causing the younger boy to jump slightly and grind his hips back against Viktor’s trousered front.

Viktor whispered a spell. From her vantage point, Hermione could see a clear, oozing liquid form at once on his fingers. Cedric, his forearms braced against the wall, continued to frantically push back against Viktor, moving his hips in tantalizing circles. He was mumbling quietly, his head lolling to and fro against the wall.

“Very eager, my little Seeker, are you not?” Viktor asked aloud. Hermione detected a smile in his voice.

She watched as Viktor slid his slick fingers down Cedric’s body, making the younger boy jump and moan desperately as he left a glistening trail along his vertebra, finally dipping his fingers into the cleft of his bum.

Cedric’s knees bent and his trousers slipped down further, allowing him to widen his stance and open himself up to further probing. Viktor seemed intent upon his task, obviously taking great pleasure in making Cedric squirm. The whispered words continued between them: “Yes, please.” “You like that.” “Your hands, god, your tongue.”

Hermione, tucked now deep into the Quidditch robes hung along the wall, itched to take off her chocking scarf. Instead, she slipped her hands behind herself, between her and the wall, and tightly gripped the backs of her thighs. Every inch of her was soaked through, from her hair to her panties. She squirmed uncomfortably, unable to relieve the sudden anxiety and restlessness coiled within her, but unwilling to leave.

Viktor stopped his ministrations, earning a frustrated humph from Cedric. He looked to be in a hurry all of the sudden, and quickly stepped out of his trousers. He pressed himself belly up to Cedric’s body for a moment, his arse pale and firm before Hermione, who eagerly awaited what she was sure must happen next. She watched, tantalized, as Viktor pushed himself into the body in front of him. He looked as if he were being swallowed whole.

“More,” Cedric begged, his voice catching as he thrust his hips hard backwards.

“More,” Viktor echoed, obliging the younger boy and pushing himself fully into him.

More. More more. Moremoremore.

Hermione grew dizzy as she watched the push and pull, the give and take, between the two boys. Viktor’s body was draped against Cedric’s, and they moved with the ease of familiar lovers. He pressed kisses along the younger boy’s back and shoulder blades, his hands tightly gripping his hips, no doubt to the point of bruising, and all too soon, he was slamming his own hips against Cedric’s, breathless pants and moans and swear words pouring forth from both their lips. He reached around to milk the other boy’s body towards completion as he continued thrusting against him.

Hermione pressed her lips together and watched as the two fell apart in front of her, so utterly and completely that they seemed beside themselves. Viktor bit down on Cedric’s back and Cedric gave a loud cry, spilling himself against the wall and onto Viktor’s hand.

The world seemed to still. For a moment, Viktor rested against Cedric, who seemed to be letting the wall hold him up. After a long, silent second, Viktor pulled himself out from the body before him. He ran his hand along Cedric’s lower back, pulling sweat as he went along. Cedric turned around and smiled warmly, lazily, leaning limply against the wall.

His eyes burned and his smile grew to an impossible size when Viktor cocked his head.

“We should probably go shower,” he said, finally pushing himself away from the wall. He bent to pull his trousers up, but left the button open so they rested low slung on his hips. “I still have school work to finish.”

Viktor laughed, bending over to pull his trousers up as well. “I don’t think we’ll get much accomplished in the shower,” he said.

“No,” Cedric answered. He lifted an eyebrow. “I reckon I can put off my homework ‘til tonight.”

Hermione watched, the tickle in her abdomen becoming unbearable, with breath held as they walked into another room, neither concerned with anything else around them as they once again began to touch each other.

When she was certain it was safe, she came out of her hiding spot and hurried to the door. She stepped outside, taking great gulps of cold air before running the whole of way back to the castle and then straight to her dormitory, hoping Parvati and Lavender were still cloistered in the library. * * *

  
  
  
Hermione sat at the far table in the library, her quill taking notes as she read a tome recommended by Professor McGonagall. A cough from in front of her brought her head up to see Viktor standing nervously in front her. He waited, as always, for her to invite him to take a seat. She felt her cheeks flare as she motioned to the empty chair before her.  
  
He took a deep breath. “Herm-own-ninny,” he said, after he’d arranged his books on the table.  
  
She forced herself to meet his eyes. “Yes, Viktor?”  
  
“I vos vondering, Herm-own-ninny, if you would do me the great honor of being my escort at the ball….”  
  
Two days ago, perhaps, Hermione might have thought of a polite lie to let him down, the idea of parading about in front of all of Hogwarts on the arms of a Champion less than appealing.   
  
At the front of the Library, Cedric sauntered in, a gaggle of giggling girls trailing loudly behind him as he walked gallantly up to Cho Chang. Viktor’s eyes flashed briefly towards him, a hint of smile playing around his lips before he looked expectantly at Hermione.   
  
Hermione’s mind flashed back to the dreams she’d had the night before: sweat and hands and tongues and moans. She flushed.  
  
And smiled. “I’d love to go with you, Viktor.”  
  
End


End file.
